


Happy Halloween (I Love You)

by Mango_Lioncat



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: A GOOD OL' LOVIN TIME, Android Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Blackouts, Connor (Detroit: Become Human) Has a Praise Kink, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, Halloween, Halloween Costumes, Light Angst, M/M, Mutual Pining, Orgasm, Penetrative Sex, Post-Android Revolution (Detroit: Become Human), Scary Movies, Sex, Smut, because this is a Mango fic of course theres phckin petnames c'mon now, cooking together, dark stormy night, i love that there's a tag for that, implied choking kink, it's canon, light petplay, petnames
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-05
Updated: 2019-11-05
Packaged: 2021-01-23 20:23:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21326134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mango_Lioncat/pseuds/Mango_Lioncat
Summary: It's Connor's first Halloween since the revolution! And he's ready to get into the full Halloween spirit! He brings Hank along in for the fun; enter a night of costumes, scary movies, and two adorable idiots mutually pining for each other during a storm. Hank finds himself actually having a fun time, and feelings start to rise to the surface between them even in the midst of a blackout.
Relationships: Hank Anderson/Connor
Comments: 7
Kudos: 183
Collections: Hankcon & Other Ships Halloween Exchange





	Happy Halloween (I Love You)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [squareclair](https://archiveofourown.org/users/squareclair/gifts).

> For the fantabulous squareclair!!!! Sorry this is a few days late, but it was a lot of fun to write!!!! I hope you like it!!!!!!! I realized this is the first time I've actually written android Connor, it's just been AUs up until now, so thank you for giving me an excuse to write canon Connor xD
> 
> Happy belated Halloween!!!!

“C’mon, Hank.”

“No.”

“Please, Lieutenant?”

“God, Connor,” Hank gripes, looking over at his partner, leaning back in his chair. “C’mon, all that stuff is just for kids.”

Connor looks at him pleadingly, big brown eyes wide and beseeching. “I know that,” the android replies. The LED at his temple rolls blue. He shifts slightly where he sits on Hank’s desk, his favorite spot when he wants to talk to Hank about something on his mind. “But, I’ve never been able to take part in it. I wasn’t even-”

His partner goes quiet, mouth twitching.

That catches Hank’s attention. He swivels in his chair to face Connor head-on as a thought occurs to him. “Were you even.. There? For Halloween last year?” Shit what’s the word... “Activated?”

“No,” Connor answers, making a bit of a face as he thinks back to last year. “In between assignments I would go into stasis at Cyberlife. So, I missed all of September and October.”

Aw, shit. Hank drags a hand down his face, feeling like the lowest piece of crap. “Connor, sorry, I-” He sighs. “I didn’t think about it like that.” Not like he thinks Connor is missing much, anyway. Everything from Hank’s birthday on to the rest of the year is kind a shit-show for him what with Cole-

He cuts that thought off.

Connor stares down at his feet, looking like a kicked puppy. “It’s okay, Lieutenant. If you- You don’t want to.. You don’t have to go with me to get Halloween costumes if you don’t want to. I’ll be fine.. On my-”

“Hey, don’t give me that, Con,” Hank says, and reaches out with a knee to nudge Connor’s leg. It’s not enough to prompt his partner to look up. Hank rocks a bit in his chair. “Look, I- I’ll do it.”

Connor goes still. “You’ll go with me?” he asks, voice quiet.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll go with you-”

The android’s head snaps up, hopeful. “You’ll try on the costumes, too?”

Feeling like he’s being playfully manipulated, Hank holds up a hand, easing Connor before he can get too ahead of himself. “Now, hold on, I didn’t say that. I’d say I’d go with you. I’m not- I’m not gonna try on costumes.”

Connor looks only mildly put-out, but he must recognize that it’s all Hank is willing to give, so he nods, smiling a little. “Thank you, Lieutenant! We’ll go after work tonight?”

“Yeah, might as well,” Hank grumbles, but there’s a lightness in his voice. “Might as well throw ourselves into the Halloween mood, rent a couple scary movies tonight if you want.”

Connor’s eyes brighten considerably. Halloween isn’t until Sunday night, but, with tonight being Friday-

“We can order out from that place you like,” Connor says, and Hank can recognize an olive branch when he sees one. The lieutenant can’t help himself but smile a little at that. Connor feels bad about pressuring Hank to do the costume thing with him, so he’s offering this in exchange.

He reaches out to clasp a hand on Connor’s knee, giving it a well-meaning shake. “Sounds like a plan to me, bud. But we don’t have to do that- only good and healthy home-cooked meals tonight, right?” Connor’s eyes brighten with approval, and Hank’s heart warms. “But you got it, after work.”

Connor grins, and Hank admits in a secret part deep inside of him that he kind of wants to melt every time he sees it. It took Connor a while to be comfortable smiling after he went deviant. He had to learn how to smile, what felt right and natural. The angle of his lips, how open his mouth was. Not to mention all the different kinds of smiles to relay different things. Different kinds of happiness and even smiles for devilish intent when the android was feeling playful.

Connor in this case found some kind of middle ground where Hank can see just a quick flash of teeth before it’s gone. The android offers his smiles far more freely now, but Hank holds every single one of them with precious reverence. He wouldn’t trade them for anything in the world.

When the workday finally ends, Connor is practically dancing on his feet itching to head out. Hank eases him with a subdued laugh, and follows dutifully enough as Connor just about hauls Hank out the door to get to his car.

“Geez, Connor,” Hank laughs, only pretending to be annoyed as he lets himself get swept up in Connor’s excitement in the holiday. “The Halloween store isn’t going anywhere, what’s the hurry?”

Connor looks at Hank, no less excited by his partner’s less-than-thrilled attitude. “I just- I don’t want all the good ones to be gone.”

“They won’t be,” Hank assures. He loads into the car, Connor following suit. The drive isn’t going to be very far; the real question is going to be how long it’s going to take Connor for to choose his favorite costume. “You have a specific costume in mind?” he asks, curious as to what Connor might want to do for his first real Halloween.

Connor looks at Hank from the side, maple-brown eyes bright with anticipation. “Not in particular, though I have a few ideas. Are there-” Connor chokes a bit uncharacteristically on his words. “Is there anything in particular you think might.. Be best suited for me?”

“Hm,” Hank hums, a bit flattered Connor would think so highly of his opinion on something he seems to care so much about. “I dunno, I think you’d like just fine in anything.” He realizes half a second after he says that how it might come off, and stumbles a bit on his words, frantic to not make it sound- like, well, like that. “I mean- that, you’ve got a build that any costume would probably- you just- your build and- Shit not your build like- oh you know what I mean!”

Connor stares at Hank in clear misunderstanding, eyes wide with confusion. “Are you okay, Hank? You’re not usually so-” he gestures with one hand.

“I’m fine,” Hank replies, a bit snippy, and he hopes he isn’t blushing too brightly.

They sit in tense silence for a few more moments, Hank gripping the steering wheel tight.

He’s gotta try to bring them back to equilibrium, so he clears his throat. “I think you’d be well suited for any costume you wanted to dress up in, is what I’m saying, Con,” he says, not wanting to think too hard on why his heart seems to be pounding so quick. He grapples on his words for a moment. “Um, sorry for being so weird.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Connor says, voice soothing. When Hank glances at him, he can see the sincerity in Connor’s eyes, though they look a little disappointed. “So- you can’t think of anything that I’d really be best for?” he asks, sounding a tad despondent.

Hank is a bit more prepared this time. He hums, looking off into the distance. “Well, I suppose dressing as a robot would be considered pretty poor taste, right?”

Connor snorts, a very human sound he doesn’t usually make, and Hank grins, looking at his partner teasingly. “Yes, Hank,” Connor says. “That would probably be poor taste, but also hilarious.”

“Glad you think so,” he says with a grin. Then he shrugs. “I dunno, man. Are you thinking classic halloween? Like werewolves and zombies or just.. Dress up Halloween like, I dunno, a construction worker or something?”

“Probably something classic, like a ghost. Or maybe a zombie,” Connor muses.

Hank nods, and shrugs good-naturedly. “I dunno, then. Lots of choices. A mummy.. Frankenstein-” Though that would be kind of funny, too. A machine brought to life and all that, rebelling against its’ creator. He looks Connor over, at his slim figure and well-maintained curl of hair. “Maybe a vampire.”

Connor cocks a curious brow. “A.. vampire?”

The Lieutenant shrugs good-naturedly. “Well, yeah.” He doesn’t say out loud how he thinks Connor could be a vampire because he’s so drop-dead gorgeous, beautiful enough to be one of the undead that lures its prey with sweet and sugared words before going in for the kill. “Pretty perfect for you, I’d say.”

“Is that so?” Connor asks, and from the angle he’s sitting, Hank can see the reflection of his LED in the window circle yellow. But he doesn’t comment on anything further.

The place is pretty crowded by the time they pull up to the parking lot of the Halloween store. There are kids dragging parents around, some less enthused than others. Folks walk out carrying bags of last-minute supplies for the fun and scary holiday, some even donning masks like clowns and famous monsters or superheroes.

Deep in his gut, Hank can feel the pit in his stomach growing, as well as his expression souring. He frowns, feeling like he’s about to slip away and-

“Hank.”

He’s brought back from his haze when a soft hand settles over his own and gives a reassuring squeeze. Wide eyes of oak gaze sadly at him, and there’s a downturned quirk at the android’s mouth. “Hank- I didn’t even- I didn’t even think about how- about what you might be-”

Connor fails for words, something that doesn’t happen often, and Hank offers a consoling smile and a gentle squeeze of his hand to his partner. “It’s okay, Connor,” he murmurs, and finds that he means it. “I admit it’s been a few years since I bothered to get into the Halloween spirit. The ones for the past four years haven’t exactly been-” Hank glowers at their hands, lost in thought. “I just holed myself up at home, drank, and..and...”

Now he can’t finish his sentence, but Connor is quick, and he picks up what Hank means if the returning squeeze of his hand is anything to go by.

“It’s okay, Con,” Hank offers again, his smile trepidatious. “It’s still hard, but.. It helps. Having you here.”

Connor looks like he could turn beet red from Hank saying something like that. He keeps his gaze averted, staring at their adjoined hands. He finally seems to gather his courage, and looks up to match Hank’s gaze head-on. “If it’s too much for you, though, Hank, let me know, okay? I was just thinking only of myself- I didn’t even consider how it might be for you after all you’ve gone through. I don’t want to put you through more pain than you already have.”

“It hurts no matter what,” Hank says. “But it hurts less than it used to.” And he’s telling the truth, too. He can’t help but run his thumb over the back of Connor’s hand. When the android doesn’t look entirely convinced, Hank squeezes it again. “I mean it, Con.” He looks up, brown eyes still uncertain, but Hank puts as much into his voice as he can. “I’m fine.”

It seems to be enough for Connor. He nods once, and offers his own small and uncertain smile. “Okay, Hank,” he decides. “Then- I’m ready to go in when you are.”

Connor is patient, and he waits until Hank makes the movement a few seconds later to open the door and exit the car.

The frigid October air hits Hank with a blustery gust of wind. A few leaves scatter in the empty space, scuttling along the concrete. Hank shivers, bracing himself against the cold as he hurries with Connor to get back inside, who’s also slightly shivering from the chill. Hank remembers almost a year ago walking with Connor in the snow, how he kept pace along beside him up to Kamski’s doorstep, and he didn’t even flinch from the below-freezing temperatures. Now he shivers and crosses his arms over his chest, hurrying in step with Hank to the warm store. It can definitely be said that deviancy changed some things for Hank’s android partner.

Connor gets the door for Hank, who slips inside, and is immediately hit with the scents of plastic, something spiced like cider, and sweet like candy. Over-enthused kids scream as they run up and down the aisles, shoving various costumes into the face of parents, some expressions more worn and weary than others.

Hank doesn’t realize he’s totally froze in the entryway of the building until a warm hand slips into his own, a comforting, grounding presence. He looks over, and finds Connor’s patient and careful expression, soft and waiting.

“Okay, Lieutenant?” he asks, quiet.

“..Yeah,” Hank says, his answer almost a sigh. He edges a smile, and looks at Connor gratefully, distantly awed by the lightness of his heart. “I’m alright, really.”

And he is. It feels genuine.

He lets Connor pull him toward the costume section. They neatly avoid the column of kids packages, and go to the line of different adult types and sizes.

And all the usual stuff is there. Vampires, mummies and frankensteins, werewolves, witches, and ghosts, along with the less-scary options of doctors, policemen and firemen, surgeons, and nuns. A whole wall of just superheroes takes up one part of the aisle, but Connor steers away from those to go to the more classic options.

The further down the store goes, the more -ahem- revealing they get. Things Hank would never even imagine as being classified as hot like sexy Mickey Mouse and sexy pizza. Hank doesn’t have a single clue as to how that was supposed to appeal to anyone, but Connor sure got a kick out of it. At one point he holds up some scant pieces of fabric that are apparently supposed to be some kind of ‘hot robot’ look, a teasing glint in his amber eyes. “Hank! Hank!” he calls, “Does this really.. Turn you on?”

“I’m going to request a partner change to Fowler next Monday, I swear to God-”

Connor does that cute (wait, fuck, cute?) giggle that Hank likes (loves?). Small and withdrawn, his shoulders curving inward as he smiles and ducks away, like he’s embarrassed to be caught laughing. He puts the sexy robot costume back up in line with the other zany outfits.

There are bins filled with different hair pieces. One with small hats on them, antennae, and various ear types. Connor beckons Hank forward, experimenting with different types. He seems to take great amusement from Hank with a small top hat on, or with a big fake plastic eyepatch like a pirate.

“I think you’d make a pretty good pirate captain, Lieutenant,” Connor says, tone playful.

Hank chuckles, and gives the heartiest “Aarrggh” he can muster, eliciting a brighter laugh from Connor. He flicks a pirate hat adorning Connor’s head, and grins, “Fine, but only if you’re my first mate.”

Hank is pretty sure his heart stops, or maybe it jumps up into his throat as he lets that sentence sink in. He immediately wishes he could pull the words back out of the air and stuff them in his mouth.

Because that really does not sound like the kind of thing a police officer, a Lieutenant, would say to his partner.

Connor takes it in stride, though. He laughs, and places the hat on Hank’s head. “Mm, I don’t think the pirate’s life is for me. I’d be willing to be a mermaid, though.”

Mermaid? Hank thinks, watching as Connor turns to dig back through the accessory bin. A siren, more like.

“Hank? What about these?”

Hank blinks from his inner thoughts, startling a little as he looks back to Connor.

And nearly buckles at the knees.

Connor’s found and placed on a pair of cute little black ears, triangles, cat ears. Small and soft and pink in the middle.

Hank’s heart stops.

“They look good?” Connor asks with a warm, unassuming smile.

Hank can feel the blood rush to his face, and his palms grow sweaty. His mouth dries, and he has an irredeemable urge to say, “Yeah they do, kitty.”

Connor must sense the change in Hank, because his smile lilts a little to one side, dropping. “Hank?” he asks. “Everything okay?”

“‘S fine, ‘s fine,” he mumbles, blinking and staring hard, imprinting the picture in his mind. He forces himself to look away, swallowing.

Connor doesn’t comment further, but he puts the cat ears away.

Connor playfully places more accessories in Hank’s hair or as a headband along his head. Hank puts up with it, smiling patiently, and taking a small bit of secret joy from it.

In the end, Connor does end up buying the vampire costume, fake fangs, dark cloak and everything, the whole shebang. Hank tries not to let it show how much it affects him, how cutting of an image Conor strikes in the stark white shirt and blood-red vest, twined with dark hints of wine-colored fabric.

It takes some cajoling on Connor’s behalf, but his android partner is eventually able to convince Hank to buy a were-wolf costume. It’s pretty basic, as far as Halloween costumes go. Just pants with fake tears in it and ripped seams along the bottom, a matching blue plaid shirt with fake rips to reveal the skin underneath. Then here’s the more were-wolfy parts that include a pair of big and rubbery hands made to look like claws with scuffs of fake gray and brown fur along what’s supposed to be the palms.

And of course a tail. Big and fluffy, attached to a stretchy string made to go about the waist.

“C’mon, Hank, you didn’t want one with one of the big masks?” Connor teases, grinning as he playfully bumps Hank’s shoulder standing in the checkout line. All in all, Hank’s whole costume comes already put together in one of those plastic packages. Cheap and disposable.

“Nope,” Hank replies, curt. He digs for his wallet while the clerk rings up his total. “Would rather not.”

Connor has a funny little smile on his face, but something lights up in his eyes, and without a word, he hurries back into the store, still carrying his own bag filled with what he already paid for.

“Connor, where the f- where do you think you’re going?” Hank calls.

His partner doesn’t answer. Hank pays what’s due. When the clerk gives him a curious look, he shrugs, wordless and without a clue as to what’s going on.

Connor comes back less than a minute later, beaming. In his hands, he holds another headband, but it’s got little, soft-brown button-ears on it like a dog. Tufts of fake fur, cute and pink on the inside.

“To complete the look,” Connor says, and Hank wonders if Connor can hear the pounding in his heart or see the sweating that starts up around his palms.

Hank is about to refuse, but before he can say anything, Connor slips in beside him and hands the clerk his card. “It’s on me, Lieutenant,” he says with a smile. “As a thank you. For coming out with me today.”

Hank purses his lips a little, but he shrugs lightly. “Fair enough, then. But you don’t have to do that, Con. I can cough up the, what, two bucks to pay for a pair of dog ears?”

“Were-wolf ears, Hank,” he chides, like Hank just made a terrible affront by insinuating that they were dog ears instead of a supernatural being’s. “And if it’s no big deal, then it’s no problem if I pay for them.”

Hank snorts, and knows when he’s fighting a losing battle. Shit, every battle with Connor turns into a losing one, ever since day one. He’s stubborn like that, refuses to let Hank be right about anything, especially when he’s convinced on it.

But Hank looks at that funky little robot, standing there crisp in his work button-down, exchanging pleasantries with the teenage clerk behind the desk, and deep in his heart, the Lieutenant knows he wouldn’t prefer it any other way.

The drive back to the house is a peaceful one. Bright October sunlight filters in through crisp autumn leaves, and it's even warm enough that Hank let's the window down while soft and jangly music plays over the radio. He sees from the corner of his eye as Connor reaches to the dial to change the station, but Hank's voice gives him pause.

"You don't like this?" he asks in reference to the music.

Connor looks to him from the side, curious. "I.. Was thinking that you wouldn't like it."

"Eh, I don't mind it. It's nice." Hank waves a hand, "Kinda fits the mood, right?"

Connor looks hesitant, frozen for just a moment, then starts to draw away back into his seat. "Yes, I.. Suppose it does."

They enjoy the rest of the drive home, and Hank even finds himself tapping his fingers along to the tune.

Above, silver clouds begin to sprinkle rain, pattering against the car and trickling down the windows. Hank glances to Connor from time to time, seeing as the android tracks after them with a single finger. It’s nice, having this little bit of time with Connor. Peaceful.

“Enjoying your first fall?” he asks once they turn into the neighborhood, slowing down the vehicle.

“I am,” Connor hums. “I enjoy the colors, it’s different seeing it all in person rather than the image search I have access to.”

“Yeah, that’s usually the norm,” Hank barks out a laugh.

“There is one thing I do regret,” Connor murmurs, a quiet confession.

Hank hums, “What’s that?”

Connor blinks once, a bit of a frown along his face. “According to my search, a significant tradition related to fall is the specialty food that comes with it. Apple cider, pumpkin pie and pumpkin spices, caramel and apple flavored items, often a combination of these elements. Autumn spices and-”

“Con, Connie, chill,” Hank eases. “You don’t have to give me the full list. What about them?”

Connor makes a discontented noise from his throat. “I don’t have the ability to consume food, at least- not the way you do, as a human. I can take samples and test them in real time, but those are only minute amounts, not like drinking a full glass of cider or eating a whole piece of pie.”

“You’re saying you feel like you’re missing out?” Hank tries to clarify. He pulls into the driveway, halting the car and giving Connor a look with a single raised brow.

The android looks somewhat ashamed to be admitting this, eyebrows knit together. “I suppose so,” he muses.

Hank huffs out a breath, and gives a half-smile toward his partner. “Con, c’mon, it’s not like all that is a requirement to enjoy the season, y’know. Plenty of people don’t participate in that kind of stuff.”

“I know,” Connor murmurs, eyes distant. Hank tries to peer around his partner so he can see the reflection of his LED in the window to check how he’s doing. “I just-” and he turns his head, revealing the circle of yellow. “They’re things that I would like to participate in, but I can’t.”

Hank considers this, looking down at the space between them. “That sucks, especially since all of that is good stuff, but.. We’ll find other things to celebrate about fall together. Like these dumbass costumes. And scary movies, and fall-scented candles.” He wants to reach out a hand to grab Connor’s, or place it on his thigh, but he falters, and settles for offering his trademark half-smile. “We’ll make our own traditions, Con.”

His partner’s LED continues to rotate that contemplative yellow, and Hank even thinks he sees a quick flash of red, but it’s gone before he can think too much on it. Before he can speak again, Connor looks at him with those wide brown eyes, seemingly too stunned for words.

“What?” Hank asks.

“You-” Connor seems to fight for words. “You would.. Want to continue having- you would want to have a set of traditions with me?”

“Well, yeah,” Hank replies, the answer easy. “You’re.. You’re family now, Con.” He huffs out a breath of laughter, “And you’re also living with me, so-” A thought creeps up on him, though. What if Connor doesn’t want to have that with Hank? What if he’s saying that thinking Hank is an old sentimental idiot who can’t let him go? After all, Connor is young, beautiful, he’s gotta want to spend more of his free time with others like him, not with an old fart like him.

Hank jumps off his train of thought and stammers, “Well, that is if you want to keep something like that up. I’m not saying you have to stay here with me or anything. You never know what could happen in a year, I mean. I don’t want you to think you have to stay, but if you want to I’m saying you’re more than welcome to start a tradition with me and-”

“Hank,” Connor interrupts, voice light but affectionate. The Lieutenant lifts his eyes, and finds himself in the warmth of Connor’s grace. “I’d like that, too, if you’re offering.”

And deep in his chest, Hank’s full heart sings.

Inside the warmth of Hank’s house, their home, they pair up and make an autumn roasted tomato soup with grilled cheese. Sumo sits in the kitchen, watching them hopefully for any scraps while the two move about the space. Connor works on cutting the tomatoes and other vegetables, while Hank slices cheese for the sandwiches.

It’s easier making food with another person, especially when Connor has the whole recipe right there in his head. He’s been a constant motivator in Hank’s life (more like an enforcer), leaving very little wiggle room for Hank to engage in less-than healthy activities when it comes to eating right.

“This is a reduced sodium recipe,” Connor informs as he pours the vegetable stock into the soup pot. “It’s better for your heart.”

“Yeah, I’ll take your word for it, sweetheart.”

Hank freezes mid-slice, brain stuttering to a stop. He hadn’t expected the pet name to slip out, but- shit there it was.

It’s not like they were a couple, not like Connor was going out with him, god he’d probably be so grossed out by Hank’s obvious flirting he-

“Can you get the bread out, Hank?”

“Yeah, sure.”

Connor doesn’t address it, and the tension wrapped tight around Hank starts to let itself go. They make dinner together amicably while the rain pattering outside and against the windows turns in to a full-on storm. Gales of wind and sleet beat against the panes of glass, causing the walls to whistle and groan. Far off in the distance, Hank can hear sirens from emergency vehicles passing by. And as it surely grows darker and colder outside, it’s warm, toasty, and purely domestic inside.

Dinner is perfect, everything cooked to perfection. Connor sits with Hank while he eats. It was weird at first when he started living with Hank, when he didn’t have anything he could eat during mealtimes. For a time Connor even insisted on cleaning the dishes, but Hank flat out refused that. “You can’t do the chores while I pig out. We should still sit together and we can do the cleaning up after.”

In the end it worked, even if it took some convincing on Hank’s part. They found their own system of how to work things. They converse, but while Hank eats dinner, Connor knits, or does something or other to occupy himself with while Hank eats. Sometimes he draws, or does some other craft to busy his hands.

But sometimes he doesn’t feel like doing any of that, and he just sits with Hank and talks.

It’s become a tradition of their own, something that’s fit specifically for them.

Tonight, Connor has opted for just sitting with Hank, LED a calm and steady blue, with the occasional flicker to yellow. Usually that means there’s something on his mind.

“What’s goin’ through your head, Con?” Hank asks as he dips his grilled cheese into the soup.

“Just thinking, Lieutenant.” His partner’s eyes are cast to one side, staring into the distance.

Hank makes a bit of a face at that, frowning, and takes another bite of the food. It’s goddamn delicious, but of course, everything he and Connor make together tastes amazing. “That’s not good, then,” he comments.

Connor blinks twice, and his maple eyes finally come into focus as he turns his head to look right at Hank, gaze clear. “What isn’t, Hank?”

The grip around Hank’s heart lightens just a tinge. “I know you, Con. It’s not just ‘something on your mind’. Something’s bothering you.”

The android’s eyebrows narrow, furrowing toward the center with the slightest movement. Connor’s tells are subtle, but once Hank familiarized himself with them, they’re as obvious as a stop sign. Hank watches, and waits respectfully for Connor to expand.

But his partner looks away, and his eyes glaze back over. “It’s nothing, Lieutenant.”

Bullshit. But Hank isn’t one to push. If Connor doesn’t want to talk to him about something, that’s his own choice. If he needs Hank’s help or advice on something, Connor knows he can ask.

“You know you can talk to me about anything, right?” Hank asks, a little irritated and maybe a bit anxious about the whole thing. Connor knows he can trust him, can’t he? Connor looks back over, gaze imperceivable. “We’re partners, you can always tell me what’s on your mind.”

Connor’s gaze softens, and he nods just in the slightest. “I know, Hank. And..” he looks conflicted for a moment, just the slightest shift of his body. “..It’s not something in particular I want to talk about at this moment. But.. I appreciate you reaching out.” He offers a reassuring smile. “It’s nothing to worry about. But, thank you for the reminder.”

Good enough, then. Hank looks down at his nearly finished meal, and nods once. “Alright, then.”

He finishes his dinner in silence, unable to stop turning over in his mind what could possibly be bothering Connor.

When Hank finishes his meal, Connor’s voice innocently chimes in from across the table. “Do you want seconds?”

Hank shakes his head, “Nah, I’m- hey!”

Before Hank can even finish his sentence, Connor’s swooped in and taken his empty dishes for him to wash. Hank starts after him, “Ey, c’mon now, I’m not letting you do the dishes all by yourself - give me one of those rags-”

“Hank, it’s fine,” Connor assures, palpable warmth in his voice. “You go get comfy, I’ll wrap up here and put on some coffee.” He looks Hank’s way, a bit of a smile on his lips. “You choose the scary movie to watch.”

A crack of thunder roars from outside, and a smattering of raindrops hit the window from the storm. Hank grumbles a little about not being able to help, but he relents, and goes to change out of his work clothes.

By the time Hank gets back into the living room, the smell of freshly-brewed coffee immediately permeates the air. Connor is finishing up the last of the dishes and wiping his hands in a dish towel decorated with pumpkins. His white button-down sleeves are rolled to his elbows, his slacks fitting to his form nicely. He turns his head slightly, sensing Hank, offering a smile. Hank can't help but think of him as lovely.

"All comfy ?" he asks, stepping lithely to the coffee pot where he can pour Hank a mug.

"Yeah, yeah," Hank mumbles, and scratches absently at his stomach, watching.

"Creamer?" Connor asks, voice all soft and smooth like the very creamer he pulls from the fridge. It's something he got for Hank because he knows the Lieutenant doesn't like his coffee black. Some kinda pumpkin spice flavoring with no added sugar. Hank likes it well enough, and he doesn't mind the mothering.

It takes Hank a moment to realize he's wandered off into space and remind himself to answer Connor's question. "Oh, uh, yes. Please."

The smile Connor has is practically /demure/. He pours the creamer and coffee into one of Hank's mugs, an old navy one with the Gears' logo on it, faded and cracked. He's probably pouring some exact ratio of creamer to coffee that he knows Hank will like the most. Not that he minds or anything. Hank likes those little quirks about Connor.

"You seem distracted, Lieutenant," Connor's voice rings from the side, layered with amusement. He turns fully and starts toward Hank, hand extended with the coffee mug. "Is something bothering you?"

Hank smirks, getting the joke, back to that conversation lifetimes ago in the bridge. Not that Hank can remember that much about it, but.. 

"Nah, Con, it's nothing. Don't you worry your pretty head over it." Hank takes the cup from his partner. It's hot to the touch, just barely burning in his hands, but it's good. "Just.. Appreciating all this. I'm glad you're here with me this year. It's nice."

Something indecipherable glimmers in Connor's eyes. "Yes. It is."

Hank almost catches his mind wandering, again, but then Connor touches a hand lightly to his side. "Movie, Hank?" 

"Yeah," Hank says, and he just can't stop looking into those wide eyes of maple. "Movie time," and lets himself be led to the living room by his partner.

Its somewhat difficult to narrow down a movie choice, when they get to it. There's so many options, even more if Hank ever updated to the 4D TV system floating around nowadays. He's too old fashioned, and still has some Blu-ray discs floating around, but not much in the scary movie department.

"We can just stream it," Hank says from where he sits on one end of the couch. "Got your pick of the lot, choose whatever you want."

Connor's joined Hank along the same couch, but situated further down at the other end. Deviancy has changed him so much, but he still sits like he's got a rod shoved up his butt, which usually means he's on edge about something. God if he would just talk to Hank about it..

"But what are your movie preferences, Hank?" Connor asks, yellow LED blinking as he probably flips through every scary movie ever known to exist. "I want us to watch something you think both of us will enjoy."

Hank groans, "Ah, no, don't pull that shit with me! This is your first Halloween, Con. You choose whatever movie suits your fancy."

".. Okay," Connor agrees after a moment of uncertainty. "But, is there anything you'd prefer we.. stay away from?"

Hank rubs a hand up and down along his face. "Whatever interests you, Connor, really."

"I'd like us both to enjoy the movie, Lieutenant."

"God you're such a bitch when you want your way," Hank grumbles, but it's affectionate with the smile up his lips. ("Your bitch," Connor mumbles snarkily under his breath.) Hank snorts and reaches over as far as his leg allows to playfully nudge at Connor. "Shuddup!" he cajoles, smiling. 

Knowing he's not gonna be able to convince the immovable android, Hank waves a hand, and acquises. "Fine, okay, I dunno. Maybe nothing too sexual or gorey." He pauses, hesitant, then adds, "And nothing with kids in it, or like a kid's cartoon or something? I don't think I-" 

He can't finish the sentence, but he doesn't have to. Connor is already there, reaching across the distance to touch a grounding hand at Hank's knee, his smile gentle with understanding. "Okay, Hank," he says, silky. "Thank you for telling me."

"Yeah, no problem," Hank mumbles, grateful to Connor for making it like Hank is the one doing him a favor. He hides his misty-eyed glaze by drinking some more of his coffee, the ratio perfect, as usual. Nothing but the absolute best from his partner.

Connor's choice is excellent, per the norm. Some kind of thriller that's just on the cheesy side to be considered campy but still worthy enough to get a few scares in. Something with a bunch of college students trapped in a snowy mountain range being hunted by some kind of mysterious monster.

"Good choice, Con," Hank hums with approval, and gives him a side-eyed look as the credits start. "Now you didn't cheat, did you? No downloading the whole movie or reading through the summary before you started it?"

“No, Hank,” Connor chuckles, turning his head at an angle to smirk at Hank. He settles a bit into the couch, LED blinking as he turns up the audio of the TV. “I know how much you value the ‘genuine experience’ of media consumption.”

“Hell yeah, I do,” Hank grumbles, drinking more of his coffee.

They’re pretty quiet as the movie continues. And Hank has to admit that it does get pretty intense. He finds himself getting invested, and he’d really get lost in the lore of the story if it weren’t for Connor at the other end of the couch.

Because if Hank is somewhat invested, Connor is absolutely lost in the lore of the story. He even jumps at some of the scares, startling and even letting out sharp little cries of surprise from them.

Hank just guffaws at the scenes. Movies haven’t scared him for a long, long time, but he can’t help but feel some sympathy for Connor, who flinches at the high-pitched screams and jumpscares.

“You okay over there, Con?” Hank asks, one arm slung over the back of the couch. Somehow during the movie Connor had inched his way in Hank’s direction so he was more at the center of the couch than the side. Even with the scares apparently getting to Conor, Hank can see his LED remain a steady and comforting blue. “I didn’t think this would be that scary for you.”

“It’s not,” Connor assures, quick to dissuade Hank from thinking he won’t be able to handle the movie. “I’m fine, Lieutenant.”

“You sure?” he offers, hesitant. “We don’t have to watch it if it’s going to bother you this much. Shit, I don’t want to give you, android nightmares or something.”

Connor offers a flicker of a smile, “Androids don’t dream, Lieutenant.”

“Still, if it’s this-”

“I’m fine,” Connor reassures earnestly, watching Hank with those brown eyes. “Really, Hank. We can continue.”

The Lieutenant makes a bit of a face, uncertain, but does a little shrug as he gives in. It’s not worth fighting over, and Connor is an adult. He can make his own choices. “Alright, bud. But if you have nightmares you can’t blame me.”

Connor hums out a soft touch of laughter. “Very well,” he agrees.

They’re about halfway through the movie, and the storm still hasn’t quieted outside. A creature jumps out from behind a dark corner, and Connor startles, just a slight flinch.

The android has, possibly strategically, wriggled his way so he’s only a mere foot from Hank, the cop’s hand right behind where his neck is along the back of the couch. If Hank were to just slightly move his fingers, he would be able to feel the amber strands of hair. They look soft.

In retrospect, Hank isn’t fully aware of how or when it happens, but that’s exactly what happens.

The touch is light, but carefully affectionate. They tickle at Connor’s nape, pulling and playfully twining. Beneath his touch, Connor is tense, but when Hank starts to draw away, the android leans back into the sensation.

Hank lets out a breath of air, careful, tremulous, suddenly unsure about what exactly is happening here. But he can’t move his eyes from the TV, is afraid of what he’ll find if he looks to his partner during this suddenly intimate moment.

He’s forced to, though, when there’s a particularly scary scene. Some poor sap on the screen being stalked by the monster, their demise inevitable, the violins’ screech rising in a crescendo, about to happen any second-

The monster leaps out of the dark to gobble them up with a terrible roar, even catching Hank as he startles in time with Connor. Then suddenly, the android is grabbing onto him, latched onto Hank’s side.

His arm automatically wraps around Connor’s shoulders, and he chuckles, warm and deep. “Don’t think we’ll tick you down as one who likes scary movies then, huh?” he asks, attempting to keep his voice light and from shaking at Connor’s proximity.

“Guess not,” Connor mumbles, but he doesn’t leave Hank’s embrace. If anything, he seems to settle further into it, Hank’s arm settling low over Connor’s shoulder. Hank would have to say that he doesn’t mind this, either.

Holding Connor doesn’t feel exactly like holding a human. He’s still deceptively soft and malleable against Hank’s bulk, but there’s a stiffness to him.. Or maybe that’s just the android’s own uncertainty.

“Is this okay?” Hank asks after a beat, voice rough. The characters on screen are momentarily reunited with each other as they try to formulate a plan to take out the monster. Hank isn’t talking about the movie, though, and he wonders if Connor gets that.

The android wiggles a little against him, shifting into Hank’s torso. His whole body is angled toward the Lieutenant like he’s lying on his side, and his head rests right along the crook of Hank’s shoulder high on his chest. It’s almost like Connor was made to fit there, slotted right in Hank’s hold.

“It’s fine, Hank,” he murmurs. “It’s more than okay.”

That nearly takes Hank’s breath away, but he knows Connor is aware of his vitals and all that shit, so he tries to keep his breathing steady so he won’t give anything away. He wonders how well it works, and if Connor can hear his heartbeat from where his head rests oh so comfortably on Hank’s chest. He’s close enough that Hank can feel Connor’s hair along the edge of his jaw, and how the android simulates breathing with the steady rise and fall of his torso. His hand goes along with the movement, and when Hank looks down at Connor, at the android cuddled up with him-

He knows he never would have had a chance.

Connor must sense something in Hank’s touch after all, maybe some indiscernible sensation Hank never even knew the android could detect- because he lifts his head just slightly, and looks up to Hank beneath those dark eyelashes. Brown, brown eyes stare up at him, eyelashes batting practically coquettishly at the Lieutenant. “Everything all right, Hank?” he asks in that sweet and low voice. “There was a slight rise in your blood pressure and trace of an arrhythmia in your heart rhythm. Is everything all right?”

Hank chokes out a laugh that he was right after all, and squeezes Connor close. “It’s nothing, Con. I- everything’s fine.”

But Connor doesn’t look away, his stare immovable from Hank’s, frank and penetrating. “The movie isn’t too scary for you, is it, Hank?” he teases, a flicker of a smirk along his lips.

“Eh, shuddup, I’m fine,” Hank brushes off. His hand goes up and down Connor’s back, though it slows when he sees something tense and hesitant pass through Connor’s gaze.

On the TV, another victim to the monster gets devoured on screen.

And Connor is so close to Hank, only separated by a few spare inches of space. So close to-

“Hank,” Connor says, voice quiet. Imploring. Thunder crashes and roars. Lightning flashes. It’s cold and unbearably dreadful outside, and Hank is warm and flushed beneath the definite warmth of Connor pressed against him.

“Yeah?” he asks, breath suddenly raspy.

Connor’s eyebrows twitch together, conflicted. “I- for so long I’ve wanted to-” He bites his lip, and looks away. Hank’s breath catches, and he hopes it’s quiet. His hand, drifted down to the middle of Connor’s back, spasms as he tries to gather his thoughts.

Connor doesn’t finish what he started to say, but if the flickering yellow LED is anything to go by, Hank thinks he can put together what the android was trying to. Connor’s propped himself up so he has one hand at the center of Hank’s chest where his heart is. It’s the same place Connor’s thirium pump is in his own chest, right at the center.

There’s a flash of lightning that lights the room in a quick burst of white, followed by an immediate boom of thunder that shakes the house. Connor startles, leans into Hank with his eyes trained on the front window near the door. After a moment, he turns back to Hank, looking like he’s going to say something.

But Hank cuts him off before he can have a chance. Cups a hand to the back of Connor’s head, and pulls him in for a kiss with the next crack of lightning that brightens the sky and darkens the house.

Hank is distantly aware of how the TV cuts off, and the house is suddenly plunged into darkness, but all he can really focus on is the android curled close to his body. Connor hums a little in surprise at the contact, and for a quick second Hank fears for the worst, but in the next Connor is melting into him. His lips soften as they move against Hank, mouth open, tongue peeking out to touch the lieutenant’s.

“Connor,” Hank breathes in between kisses, trying to get a word in. But Connor doesn’t let him; he’s too eager. The android presses in close to the human, leg going up over Hank’s lap so he’s straddling him.

Hank settles his hands at once along the dip of Connor’s hips, steadying him and groaning when his partner immediately grinds his hips against Hank’s.

Hank can’t help but laugh softly at the eagerness of his partner, chuckling as he draws Connor in for more kisses, soft and hungry for each other. He pulls at Connor’s hair, wanting him as close as possible, relishing in the weight of his partner heavy in his lap.

“Hank,” Connor exhales, voice glitching in the slightest way as he tangles his hands into Hank’s shirt. He rolls his hips, eliciting a rich groan from Hank, and the android leans in close, sighing again, “Hank-” His legs squeeze Hank’s thighs, and the lieutenant aches in the best way.

“Connor-!” Hank growls, but it sounds something like a plea as he tries to bring Connor even closer, his breath hot against Connor’s cheek. He peppers every inch of Connor’s exposed face with kisses, soft and sweet, quick as a butterfly’s wing beats.

The android leans back far enough so he can look Hank in the eye, and the lieutenant attempts to keep his breath steady as he looks his partner up and down.

Connor’s hair is tousled from the activity, a flush coloring his cheeks in a very human way, breathless just like Hank, even though Hank knows he doesn’t need any oxygen.

“Should we, maybe.. you don’t think we’re going too fast?” Hank asks, hesitant.

Connor shakes his head, some kind of restless energy driving him to keep moving as he grasps onto the fabric of Hank’s shirt. “Hank, you don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for this.” His eyebrows arch up, “We can stop if you want to, but, Hank, I-”

That’s enough, as far as Hank is concerned. He soothes Connor’s rambling by kissing one corner of his mouth, and sliding his hands up beneath the folds of Connor’s shirt. The panes of his skin are soft and warm, thrumming with energy lighting all of Connor like a livewire.

Connor hums into the exploratory touch, hopefully with approval, and prompts a smile up Hank’s lips. Teasing and playful, Hank chuckles, blue eyes sparkling. “What?” he asks as Connor giggles, kissing Hank once more, though it’s light and quick.

The android brushes his cheek along Hank’s, the motion carefully repetitive. Testing. He doesn’t answer, though, not until Hank tugs at his stray curl of hair. Connor giggles, and repeats the motion, making Hank think of a cat rubbing up against their owner. “Your beard,” the android hums lightly. “It’s so soft-”

Hank snickers, but he doesn’t move his head away, letting Connor enjoy what he can. “Gotta admit,” he says, stroking his hand up and down along the length of Connor’s back, crinkling his shirt. “I didn’t expect for you to say something like that. Don’t usually get compliments on the facial hair.”

“Well you should,” Connor says at once. “It feels so good, real nice against my face…” He’s nothing but sincere, “And I like it on you. It makes you look..” he considers his words, then declares, “ruggedly handsome!”

Hank laughs low, “Well if you like the beard, sweetheart,” he rumbles, crooking a finger beneath Connor’s jaw and tilting it up so they can meet eyes. Hank smirks, “I think you’re going to enjoy the rest of the night.”

Connor’s only answering reply is a devilish, vampiric grin.

\--

From there, Hank doesn’t have a single clue as to what happened between there, and now.

Because somehow, he’s on his bed, resting against the bedframe as he appraises Connor standing at the foot of it, watching and waiting for Hank’s reaction.

In face of the blackout, they’ve lit some spare candles Hank had in a box containing old holiday supplies. Some regular ones that smell like wax, and others Connor bought from bath and body stores that have distinct autumn scents. Pumpkin waffle, apple walk, that nice smelling kind of shit Hank would never buy on his own.

But they work to illuminate the house until the power comes back, enough for Hank to see and plenty of light to make Connor look like something that just crawled out of a Renaissance painting. Light dances over the android’s frame, pools of orange light over pale skin, flickering and making his eyes glow amber in the spare bit of lighting.

Hank’s mouth feels dry, and like his heart is thumping too fast, and he’s sure that if Connor were to scan him he would tell him he detects definite evidence of arousal from the old washed-up lieutenant.

“Well?” Connor asks demurely, and Hank tries to focus his vision on his (fuck, partner? Lover? Shit, what were they now) watches him with half-lidded eyes. The android reaches up to touch delicately at the headband placed on his head. “Do you like it?”

“Like it?” Hank croaks, hand itching to go for his dick already hard in his pants. He instead settles for his own hand reaching out to Connor, that maybe pulling him in close will help ease the ache. “Baby,” he can’t help but croon, “I absolutely love it.”

Connor sighs, gentle and pleased. “I knew you would. I saw how you looked at me in the store when I had it on, and I-” he bites his lip, taking Hank’s hand and letting the Lieutenant pull him gently onto the bed so he can join him. “I saw how your eyes dilated, how your breathing quickened and your blood pressure spiked-” Connor looks at Hank like he’s something to be devoured and consumed whole. “And I knew that I wanted to see it again.”

“Well, you fuckin nailed it, honey,” Hank croaks, appraisng Connor slowly, heart hammering against his sternum. He reaches up, fingertips lightly dancing along the column of Connor’s throat, and a pleased growl rumbles from his throat. “Now c’mere, kitty.”

Connor smiles, and crawls on all fours over to Hank, who reaches up to playfully touch and play with the little triangle ears up on Connor’s head. Reaches behind him to tug teasingly on the soft tail kept around Connor’s waist with a string.

They spend the rest of the night wrapped up in each other’s arms. Connor clings to Hank above him, who whispers sweet words into the android’s ears. Praises and words of warmth as rough and callused hands go up and down along the android’s soft torso. He slips Connor’s shirt over his head, and kisses every mole, every freckle that’s revealed. Each one placed there just for him to adore and worship.

“You’re so good for me, Connor,” Hank breathes as Connor’s own hands slide underneath Hank’s shirt. “So good, sweetheart, such a good kitty.”

The android makes a purring sound beneath him, smiling devilishly as Hank peels off the last of their clothes.

Hank takes Connor slow and luxuriously, the broad bulk of his body easily surrounding the slighter man beneath him. Flickers of Connor’s chassis shows itself when Hank holds onto him especially hard, the white lined with blue a pleasant sight beneath already creamy pale skin.

“Everything okay, Hank?” Connor asks, vulnerable as he waits for Hank to move. The android squirms a little beneath him, his soft hands gently running their way through the curls of Hank’s chest.

“Perfect, Con,” Hank sighs, fingering the opening between the android’s legs. Connor gasps quietly, mouth parted beautifully as he tries to relax under Hank’s ministrations. “Always so perfect for me, honey.”

Connor whimpers in delight, spreads his legs wide as Hank holds himself in hand. “I’m ready, Hank.”

“Okay, Connie,” Hank hums, holding onto Connor’s ribs as he pushes slowly into the android. “So good for me, honey. Nnggh, fuck, Con,” Hank lets his head fall forward, a shuddering breath pushing from his lungs. “You’re so tight-!”

Connor mewls beneath Hank, LED flickering between blue and yellow, even an occasional red when Hank hits something deep in him he didn’t think Connor even had. And all the while, the storm beats against the windows and howls against the walls of their home.

Hank and Connor fight to make sure the only thing they can hear is each other.

At one point, Connor rolls Hank over to take control, bracing his hands at Hank’s pectorals, rotating his hips against Hank’s. The lieutenant groans into the movement, holding onto Connor’s thighs, fingers pressing in hard to reveal the white underneath Connor’s exterior skin.

“You’re so beautiful,” Hank repeats from below, gazing at Connor with hooded eyes. He squeezes and massages every bit of Hank that he can. Uses one hand to guide Connor’s palm higher up his chest where it rests above his clavicle so close to his neck. It’s just a teasing touch, but the steady weight of it feels good, right at the base of where his windpipe is.

Their movements are careful and coordinated with each other. It’s not as rough as what Hank imagined they would have- but it’s so much better. Connor’s attentive, drawing Hank’s movements where he wants, giving Hank what he needs.

And all the while, Hank groans and rolls his hips into Connor, shuddering with pleasure from the tightness enveloping his cock.

“So good for me, kitten,” he hums, reaching for any part of Connor he can grab. His fingers stretch to the line of Connor’s throat, digits itching to grab something that isn’t there. He instead smooths his hands at the adam’s apple along the android’s throat, breathing heavy as Connor presses Hank’s hand harder against the junction of his neck. “Gonna have to think about maybe getting you a collar, make it easier for me to hold on to you, keep you in line.”

Connor moans, head tilted back in ecstasy, like the collar is already there for Hank to grab and use to control him. But more than that, with the position of their hands pressing to each other, it’s like they’re connected in a way that goes beyond physical. Hank thinks of the thing androids do, the interfacing he’s seen happen between androids. Not just as a way to share information, but to relay intimacy, an allowance of the other android to be personally close to them. A sign of trust.

Hank looks at the fluttering of Connor’s skin, how it sporadically disappears beneath Hank’s touch, and his heart throbs with longing.

“Connor,” he gasps, low, raspy as he tries to control the movements of his partner. The android whimpers above him, sounding close to- he doesn’t even know what. Can androids have an-?

“Hank,” Connor begs, a plea in his voice. “Hank, please-!”

Hank’s chuckles, low and sinful, only a tad bit breathless. “What do you want, pet?” he croaks, hoarse.

Connor bounces on his dick, mouth parted as he gasps for air he doesn’t need. “Tell me, tell me more-”

“More what?” Hank asks, groaning a bit as Connor clenches hard around him. “What do you want more of, cutie?” Though he thinks he has an idea when Connor whines at the petname.

“Tell me more about how- how I- “ His words cut off, and Hank laughs, picking up where Connor left off.

“Tell you how pretty you are?” he asks, gruff and lovingly possessive. “How good you look taking my dick like a good little pet?”

Connor’s moans are the sweetest Hank has ever heard. Light but full of emotion as he opens and closes his fists, fighting for purchase at Hank’s chest. “Yes, Hank, yes-!”

“C’mon, baby,” Hank urges, reaching for Connor, bringing him closer to that edge as he moves his hand between Connor’s legs. “Give it to me, c’mon beautiful.”

Whatever Hank is doing, it must strike some kind of cord in Connor, because his back snaps and some kind of glitching sound erupts from his throat. Hank groans in approval, stroking and caressing Connor through it, growling as Connor’s motions start to slow after cresting that wave of pleasure.

“Oh yeah,” Hank rumbles, maneuvering Connor’s hips into a careful roll of a circular motion. “That’s it, that’s my good boy- Did you like that? Did it feel good?”

“So good,” Connor breathes, and looks down from where he sits in Hank’s lap, brown eyes hazy with pleasure. He makes a careful movement, then, a quick rise and fall of his hips, taking Hank in far deeper than before.

“Ah!” Hank cries out, grabbing onto anything - he reaches for Connor and the bed beneath him, unable to stop himself from thrusting up into Connor. “Mn- honey-!”

Connor is merciless, his smile absolutely devilish as he repeats the motion. “Is that okay, Hank?” he asks, his fingers lightly pulling at the hair covering Hank’s chest. “Should I keep-?”

“Don’t stop,” Hank pants, his back arching, speed beginning to pick up. “Please, fuck, don’t stop, keep going-!”

He isn’t sure how much time passes. It could have been minutes or just a few mere seconds, but Connor lets Hank chase that pleasure. His mind is white-hot with it; he sees stars behind his vision, and it spikes with every lift of his hips and every tight clench of Connor’s body.

What finally does it is Connor’s hands bracing themselves low at Hank’s pectorals, fingers playing with his nipples. The flick and twist; Hank moans, pleasure sparking like lightning setting every nerve alight-

Then Connor leans forward, low over Hank’s chest, and says so sweetly in his ear- “You’re so beautiful, lieutenant.”

Hank’s release comes like a flood breaking over a barricade- heavy and intense, but overwhelming in the greatest way. His mind blanks out for a handful of wonderfully blissed-out moments, and he can hear Connor’s sighs of pleasure as Hank fills him, cock throbbing and twitching.

The afterglow is the best part, Hank just heaving and gasping for air as he admires Connor above him, looking at Hank like he hung the moon and stars just for him. Soft hands caress through his locks of silver hair, gentle, loving.

Hank sighs, eyes fluttering closed as he just lets himself enjoy the sensation of Connor above and around him, showering him with this soft affection.

A handful of moments after, and Connor carefully slips off of Hank, his weeping cock carefully tipping against Hank’s thigh as the android joins his lover curled into his side.

The Lieutenant takes care to remove the headband from Connor’s head, slipping the ears off and placing them to the side at his nightstand. Meanwhile, the android fixes himself close to Hank’s side, curling in close.

“I love you,” Hank murmurs, lips and whiskers brushing along Connor’s temple. He kisses it, his touch soft. “I love you so much, Con.”

The android hums, leans his head back, and receives another kiss from Hank for his efforts. “I love you too, Hank.” When Hank draws his hand up and down along the length of Connor’s back, the android smiles into the kiss, and makes a pleased sound from deep in his throat.

“Happy Halloween, Hank.”

Hank smiles, mouths playfully at Connor’s nose, and the android giggles, pressing his face into Hank’s touch.

“Happy Halloween, Connor.”

The power doesn’t come on until morning, but Hank doesn’t mind. It just gives him an excuse the rest of the night to keep Connor wrapped close in his arms.

“Can’t see my way around the house without you,” he teases, fingertips lightly dancing over the small of Connor’s back. “Need to keep you close.”

Connor snickers, burying his head in close to the crook of Hank’s neck. “I’ll take that excuse.”

Hank just snorts, and kisses the top of Connor’s head one more time. “Love you, baby.”

A delighted and content hum from Connor. “I love you, too.”


End file.
